


we were never welcome here

by psychomachia



Category: Radioactive (Music Video)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three ways of being a fighter. </p>
<p>[Possible triggers for abuse/violence involving puppets - not graphic.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	we were never welcome here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wizefics (bewize)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewize/gifts).



**Him**

The Man is always the same. 

He may change his face. He may grow older, wizened and hunched-over, gnarled fingers pulling the lever to the pit. He may be a young man, wild-haired and laughing as another Challenger lay still. 

He may not even be a man. 

But he is always the Man.

The Champion knows no other. He knows nothing but fighting.

When he was born (made? He cannot remember), he was sold to the men who took him to the place he would never leave. He was larger than anyone around him, who cringed from him before he could walk steady, but told him that he would be a Fighter. Of course, he would.

There were other men, who taught him how to fight, not with words, but with fists, beating him until he could no longer moving. They screamed at him that he was weak, that those little fluffballs could defeat him, that they had spend too much money. They did not expect him to understand.

But he understood. 

His first fight was against a little yellow bear that cowered and shook at his size. At first, he was nervous, backing away, but he saw the fear in that bear's eyes, he grew angry. It did not even attempt to fight. It just cried. It was weak, pathetic. 

He crushed it until it no longer walk, only crawl. 

And when the Man slid a finger across his throat, he ripped its head off.

It was easy after that. He kept telling himself that. 

Some lived, some died. Those that lived, dropped down the pit, beaten and scared. He did not see them again.

Those that died, he saw every night in his dreams. 

But he did not forget the last one.

It was the most insignificant of creatures. A pink bear, trembling and frightened. He howled at it, and it covered its eyes. It was a joke. 

He threw it against the wall, again and again. It did not even scream. And when he was done, it stood up. He motioned for it to come on, and waited it for it to run, or to quiver in terror.

It did not run. It did not quiver. It raised its hand, light gathering in its fist, and he looked at it in wonder. This was new.

And as it punched him, with light and power pouring through his body until he could no longer move, no longer breathe, no longer be, he only had one thought.

Thank you for ending it.

And then he knew nothing.

**Her**

She owes her life to the Agent. To the Agent's friends. She'll do anything to repay that.

When she was born, she knew her time would be short. She was small, pink, and the scientists had no idea what to do with her. Her brothers and sisters, they were all bigger than her, taken to be weapons and test subjects, to be experimented on and modified. To be made useful.

She was thrown outside and left to die, in a pool of chemicals that hissed and hurt. 

Then she saw a figure, a hooded thing come towards her, and she tried to inch her way back. She did not want to go back inside to the labs, to the tables and the needles and the realization that she would never see her family again. Let her die out there. 

Just let her go. 

She closed her eyes.

And woke to a figure with blue eyes and a warm smile, bathing her gently and singing softly to her. She said her name was Alex.

There were others, she would learn. Other men, who told her about the world outside. About the ash and dust that fell constantly in some areas, and about the clear skies in others.

They also sang, and in their songs, she learned of awakening, of becoming something more than you were before. It wasn't an artificial change like the one the scientists forced on you. It was something you chose for yourself. 

And Alex told her she could choose whatever she wanted to do. 

First, she chose her name. Liberty, to reflect her freedom.

The next took longer, and she worried she made Alex impatient, but Alex told her that if she wanted, she could choose to never take that step. 

She thought about that. About living a peaceful life in a place where you could see the moon at night and breathe in clean air. She thought about just resting. 

She chose to use the next step, the day Alex came home without her friends, and said she had to leave to save them, that they had been caught trying to save others like her. 

Liberty chose to use the powers that came to her as she lay, burning away in the chemicals. 

Alex trained her quickly, taught her that she needed only raise her hand once to stop whatever came her way. She taught her that if she just concentrated her eyes, they could burn men to nothing. To dust. She taught her that sometimes certain things were necessary to make sure other things could never happen again. 

Then she apologized for ever teaching her that.

Alex took her in a cage to the men. She told her to just hold on. Don't fight until you have to, she said. You'll know when it's time.

She was in the ring, as men yelled and jeered at her. The creature in front of her was large and purple, and she pretended to shy away. It growled at her. She covered her eyes. She didn't want to risk it. Not yet.

It was painful, being thrown, but she could deal with pain. Liberty had been born in it, after all. Then there was a thought even more painful than anything the creature could unleash on her. 

It could have been one of her brothers, unrecognizable from experiments, mutation, or just simple forgetting of a face she saw so long ago. She might never know.

She chose to never know.

And when she chose to send her energy coursing through it, she also chose to not be sure of whether or not she killed it. The men that came after? Obliterated in an instant. The man on the throne? She pulls the lever to seal his fate. 

But the one she fought?

She chose to not look back. 

**Them**

They fall into the pit and know they will never rise again. They sleep, they wake, they sleep again, all in the darkness and the pit. They are empty. They have been torn apart, they have lost all inside them. Their eyes gleam in the darkness. They do not speak but make strange noises, cooing to each other that one day, things will change. They dream only of the pit.

One day, there are large creatures that are forced to live with them. The creatures are like the ones above, the ones that pushed them from light into this, but these creatures are different, too. The creatures drum, and in the drums, they hear their heartbeats, long silenced, now pounding again. The creatures say wild, strange things, and they stir out of their slumber, excited for something they cannot name. 

The creatures leave and a new one comes, dropping down as they have dropped before. It is scared of them. They can now name what they feel. 

Life. 

And it pours into them in blood until their hearts beat again, until they can hear each other's voices loud and clear. Until they are no longer empty, but full.

Full with what, you might ask?

They will never tell.


End file.
